


Crash

by akire_yta



Series: prompt ficlets [344]
Category: Thunderbirds
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-11
Updated: 2016-11-11
Packaged: 2018-08-30 10:33:25
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 350
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8529709
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/akire_yta/pseuds/akire_yta
Summary: alan-anon requested "Scott and Alan ! Alan having a nightmare in hospital about his crash at his second race, scott coming to the rescue to comfort him"





	

 

Alan woke with a start into a foreign darkness.

There were beeps, the sound of distance conversations, the feel of a thousand people breathing the same air.  The island never felt empty until Alan came back to the world and realized how alone they were in the middle of the ocean.

As his breathing steadied, the beeping slowed.   _Heart monitor_ , a part of his brain supplied.

“You’re in the hospital.”

Alan’s head whipped around, and he winced at the sudden disorientating nausea the motion triggered.  A lamp clicked on, spilling a pool of warm orange light across his bedside.

Scott sat on the edge of the visitor’s chair, one hand laid loosely over Alan’s wrist.  Alan felt Scott’s thumb track small sweeps across the back of his hand.

Alan stared at Scott for a long moment, before he turned to look down the bed, the familiar contours of his body under the blanket.  “You’re fine,” Scott said, a soft chuckle threading through his voice.  “They just wanted to keep you in overnight for observation.  That was one hell of a knock to the head you took there, Allie.”

Alan nodded, flopping back onto the pillows.  He felt sticky, sweat cooling on his skin.  “Why are you here?  What time is it anyway?”  He looked around, but the blinds were drawn, the lamp the only light.

“About 1am,” Scott said with an easy shrug.  “And where else would I be?”  He laughed, low and gentle, at Alan’s expression.  “Get some sleep.  Virgil’s coming to pick us up when they spring you in the morning.  We’ll get pancakes or something on the way home.”

“Waffles,” Alan yawned, already feeling sleep pull at him again.

“Waffles,” Scott agreed easily.  “Go to sleep.”

Alan fought to keep his eyes open.  “You’ll be here?”

“I’m not going anywhere,” Scott said, leaning forward to rest his other hand over Alan’s eyes, plunging him into a more soothing darkness.  “Sleep,” he sing-songed.

Alan rolled his wrist, capturing Scott’s hand in an iron grip.  He felt Scott tangle their fingers together as he drifted back off to sleep.


End file.
